


Iadnah

by Thisisarealtagwhy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Enochian, Enochian-Speaking Sam Winchester, Gen, Hallucifer, Hurt Sam Winchester, Implied/Referenced Torture, Season/Series 07
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 04:30:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16527395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thisisarealtagwhy/pseuds/Thisisarealtagwhy
Summary: Sam is intimate with Enochian, sure, he's known the odd word here and there after learning of angel's existence at the inception of the apocalypse, but now? He could write it backwards if he wanted to, pain is a great motivator and why would two archangels wish to use such a degrading language?





	Iadnah

**Author's Note:**

> Iadnah means knowledge of according to a couple of sites, i don't think i can put enochian sigils inside ao3 so we make do.  
> Semi-inspired by [Ashitanoyuki](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11917395) work bc like, ive had a couple of enochian fics sitting in my wips folder for a while so uh, thank you for the last push to get this puppy out  
> I don't care about season 13 and it's 'sam don't kno enochian' bs, this is how it be.  
> Uhh, but yeah, this is just a quick thing i wrote today while studying for religion lol. i did have more written that included jack but y'know, it wasn't working out that well so let's just keep it sweet and simple amirite ladies?

Samuel Winchester, the boy with the demon blood, the boy who started the apocalypse, who took Lucifer and Michael into the Cage that even the higher echelons of demonic society do not touch in fear of the two archangels. He remembers it _all,_ Lucifer trailing cold fingers down his back, even when his pain is at such a level that it throws him into a feedback loop.

Ever since Cas destroyed his damn wall, it’s all he can think of, even when he’s researching, it’s there, invading his fragile mind.

They’re studying ancient lore in Rufus’ cabin, trying to find _anything_ about the leviathans – weaknesses, hierarchy, typical behavioural patterns, etc. they haven’t had much luck, but his hope holds out. The next book he picks up is old, crusted with unidentified liquids, written in a language he recognises.

All three of the hunters – Dean, Bobby and himself – are familiar to a certain extent with Enochian, the language of the angels.

But Sam? He’s intimately familiar with it, knows five strains that Lucifer and Michael came up with in their spare time, carefully carving the words into his memory. He’s impure, a vile perversion, unfit to speak the language.

Doesn’t mean he can’t translate it.

He’s not as great at reading the language as he is speaking it, but he takes what he can get. He already knew the base of Enochian from hunting, his knowledge from the Cage just built upon that.

Besides, pain was a great motivator to learn how to read the language so that when Lucifer preened and carved his way into his skin while he was translating… well, he learnt that mistakes were fatal.

He finds himself, as per usual, wishing that Castiel was still here so that he wouldn’t have to press his thumb deep into his hand every time Lucifer makes an appearance.

“Wowie Sammy, remember that this version of Enochian is the one _I_ speak with Mikey, Gabe and Raph?” Lucifer sits himself on his knee and Sam very certainly plunges his thumb into his hand.

“What are you studying there, Sam?” Bobby asks him, passing him a coffee.

“Thanks, uh, this text says that Leviathans were the trial run of the angels,” He reports dutifully. “apparently Raphael checked on them regularly to ensure there was no way of escape from Purgatory.”

“How can you even _read_ that?” Dean asks, peering over his shoulder, in his hands is an ancient Hebrew text.

“Well, uh, y’know, it’s just something you pick up on over the years.” The lie falls easily from his lips, Dean doesn’t _need_ to know just how Sam came to be able to read this accursed language.

“Well, all the archangels are either dead or locked away so no help there.” Bobby mutters, apparently both hunters taking his lie at face value.

“I think that here it suggests that there was something mundane that the Leviathans were weak to, it couldn’t kill them, per say, but it was enough to slow them down. Of course, Raphael had enough juice to slow them down with just grace. But uh, Raphael was into experiments so that’s how he found it out.” Sam finishes, gazing into the text.

“Yes, Raphy _was_ always the little nerd, like _you_ Samantha.” Lucifer comments from his shoulder.

“That’s helpful ‘n all, but it doesn’t specify does it?” Dean says.

“No, don’t think so.” Sam bows his head.

“Well, it’s still impressive, more than we’ve found all week, well done boy.” Bobby says gruffly, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

* * *

Enochian is still unfortunately ingrained into his skull, he’ll never forget the words, _ever,_ even when the wall had been up, he’d still see bits and pieces of the language and _remember._

When Cas and Dean disappear in an explosion of black Leviathan goo, he loses a piece of himself, sure, Cas took most of his craziness, but he can’t _forget_ the memories. Enochian is his primary language, it’s not his first, but it’s the one he’s most intimate with, why on earth would two archangels _need_ such a primitive language such as English?

Enochian is beautiful, he can’t see why any angel would stoop to their level by speaking such a plain and boring language such as English. Even when the language made his eardrums burst and his eyes melt out of his sockets, he could still appreciate the undertones of beauty in it.

Every night, before he lets sleep claim him and the nightmares come to him, he prays to Castiel, prays first in English and then, when that doesn’t elicit a response, in Enochian.

He tells Castiel that he forgives him, he tells him stupid jokes he’s made up with the language, about the feeling of being so, so _so_ alone. He tells him of the state of the world. And he asks him to make sure that Dean survives, please, he begs and bargains.

_Nothing, nobody ever came, nobody cares about a stupid, good for nothin-, the boy with demon blood, he was the one who started the apocalypse, he fucked and sucked the blood off demons. He’s a failure._

He never stops praying, not even when Castiel _does_ reappear because something’s _wrong_ with Castiel and he can’t work out what it is.

“I heard you, while we were in Purgatory.” Castiel says to him one day after Naomi’s control has been ripped from him.

“I, uh- ” He hesitates on his words. “I didn’t think you would, I thought that you were two were gone for _good_ -”

“I liked your jokes, they were funny, it’s truly a pity that you were taught Enochian the way you were, Sam.” Cas tilts his head at him and Sam smiles, small and grim.

“It is how it is.” He replies. “Actually, maybe I should write down the variations…” Sam says.

“It would not be a waste of your time, but if it stresses you out, please refrain.” Cas adds.

He smiles lightly, because Cas caring is still moderately new, even through the apocalypse he hadn’t thought that the angel particularly cared what happened to him – as long as it didn’t affect Dean. It’s definitely a welcome change.

At least Enochian comes in handy when he wants to talk to Cas without anyone hearing him.


End file.
